Hopeless
by lightblue-Nymphadora
Summary: Voldemorts followers track down a member of Dumbledore's Army following the Dark Lord's victory at Hogwarts. AU. Trigger warnings: violence. Rated M


_**LbN: Written for the I Never challenge in the Teachers' Lounge forum. Song's by Breaking Benjamin. TRIGGER WARNING FOR TORTURE.**_

_HOPELESS  
I'm falling down  
FILTHY  
I can't wake up  
I can not hold on  
I will not let go  
WORTHLESS  
It's over now  
GUILTY  
There's no way out  
I cannot hold on  
I will not let go_

* * *

_George ran as fast as he could, holding down his grief for the time being. His mom and three of his brothers were dead. Four, counting Harry. The sounds of the duel echoed out to him, and he had the sinking feeling that his father would be dead soon as well. He had to get to Ginny. He had to find her…and Hermione, if she was still alive. He skidded to a stop on a landing that had suffered massive damage, and caught his breath. Then he heard it. _

"_GEORGE!"_

_Below him, Ginny and Hermione were dueling four Death Eaters. They were doing surprisingly well, considering they were both bleeding profusely. He took aim, and managed to hit two of them. He climbed down as Ginny took out another one and Hermione managed to stun the last. _

"_Follow me," he said. _

* * *

George shot up, nearly falling off the small couch. Visions of that night still plagued him, and his eyes automatically darted to the small door to the left. No, he was okay. Everything was locked for the night. He'd triple checked just after he'd gotten Neville's Patronus saying the younger man was safe for the night. He glanced to the far wall just behind the ice box and took a few deep breaths. He'd gotten Hermione and Ginny out of the country a few weeks ago. They were with Charlie in America for now. Still, he couldn't shake the nervous, sickened feeling he'd had while they were here…the leftover terror that they'd be found.

Or maybe it wasn't leftover terror.

He gripped his wand a little tighter as he walked through the small apartment to the kitchen. "Calm down," he whispered to himself, pouring a glass of water. "They're fine. You're fine. Calm down."

The explosion sent him flying across the small room. He hit the wall and heard his wand clatter to the floor. Through the haze of dust and blurred vision, he saw figures moving closure to him. His stomach swam, and there was a sharp ringing in his ears. He tried to crawl toward his wand and let out a gasp of pain.

The toe of a boot hooked under his chin and nudged his face up. "Well, finally," Macnair said. "We found a Weasley."

The other figures laughed as George tried to take deep gulps of air and make the room stop spinning. He watched as one of the Death Eaters picked up his wand and snapped it in half.

"We'll send that to your sister," he said. "Let her know we're taking good care of her brother."

He felt the air leave his lungs as someone kicked him, and he struggled to get into some sort of upright position. If this was it, he was going to die like his father, and brothers. He was going to die like Harry – upright and facing them down.

"Who told you to stand, blood traitor?" a gruff voice asked. It was Greyback. He kneed George in the groin from behind, and the rest of them laughed as the redhead fell to his knees and vomited.

George was hyperventilating, trying not to make a sound. He wouldn't give them the satisfaction, if he could help it, of hearing his pain. He realized, in that instant, that he was strangely unafraid. Sure, he was going to die. And yes, it would very probably be painful. But then it would end, and he'd be with his family again.

Someone kneeled next to him, and pressed their wand against his chest.

There was a ripping sound, and George screamed as a patch of flesh was torn from his body. He lay there shivering, not daring to look down.

Greyback flopped onto the couch as the others tore the house apart. "We'll find her, you know," he said, as Macnair subjected the boy to a few rounds of the Cruciatus Curse. "Maybe she's here, maybe not. But we've got plans when we find your little cunt of a sister, and her pet mudblood."

"Go…go fuck yourself," George managed to gasp. He screamed again as another, longer, piece of skin was ripped off of him. He whimpered, feeling the Death Eater pry his legs open. A wand was placed firmly against him, but he kicked out, catching Macnair in the stomach.

The older man dropped the wand, which George grabbed and began sending hexes in every direction he could. It was over in an instant though. He was weak, and the spells were nowhere near powerful enough to stop a werewolf.

Greyback caught him by the neck and pressed him into the wall, smirking. He snaked a hand down Georges pants and, with long, ragged nails digging into him, squeezed.

He couldn't even scream. The werewolf's grip on his throat was making it difficult to stay conscious even. Lights flashed in front of his eyes as Greyback dropped him to the floor.

"No jokes for us, Weasley?" another Death Eater asked, to general amusement. "And they always said you were so funny."

"He stinks of fear," Greyback spat.

George took a few shallow breaths. "I…I'm not…afraid," he panted, managing to meet Greyback's gaze. "You should be, though. You may kill me. You may have killed Harry, and hundreds of others…." He stopped, vomiting again. There was a chorus of raucous laughter as he tried to catch his breath. "It doesn't matter," he said, weakly. He could feel the blood soaking through his jeans. "We're out there. We'll always be out there. And one day…we'll come for you." He slumped against the wall, but was kicked to the floor a second later. He let out an agonized wail as, slowly, a wand trailed up his back, removing the skin there.

"Enough, you've had your fun."

"B-Bellatrix?"

She came and knelt in front of him, smiling. "They call me insane," she said, cupping his face in her hands. "Maybe. But I've still beaten all of you." She made a motion, and, with a few last kicks to his back and stomach, the Death Eaters followed her out the front door.

George stayed perfectly still, allowing tears to fall. They'd left him alive…. Why? He crawled slowly to the couch. They'd taken his wand. Then he smelled the smoke. "No," he moaned. "No." His head and stomach were swimming as he stumbled to the door. Locked. They'd sealed him in.

Smoke billowed in and flames licked the walls, and one more member of the resistance was claimed.


End file.
